Driven To Insanity
by AngloManxphilic
Summary: My oh my, what has he done? [Rated M due to dark themes]


[AN: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or anything affiliated with Hidekaz Himaruya. I do own this Isle of Man OC: Gillian Kirkland]

Gillian was always there. Rarely saying a word, rarely making an action causing others to react harshly. Her brothers noticed how hard she worked to be similar to a mother figure and a source of help. All but one brother who saw her as nothing more than a nuisance and a dot point on his blacklist. And that brother was Arthur.

No matter how hard she tried to be of help to him, he pushed her away claiming her to be just like everyone else who had left him before. Sometimes to the point of her being covered in bruises. It's not that she couldn't protect herself but rather it was more along the lines of Gillian believing that what she was doing wasn't enough and him beating her because of her uselessness was a punishment for being a terrible sister.

The other nations could not understand why the Manxwoman let herself get beat up to the point where she couldn't be recognised because of all the purple and blue blotches littered all over her skin. No matter how hard Gillian's other brothers and the other nations tried, they could never convince her to fight back.

-/-

It was another monthly world meeting in the ever busy city of London for it was Arthur's turn to hold the meeting. Luckily, Arthur was in enough of a good mood to allow Gillian to come along but as a maid to the other nations ; which she didn't mind because she was always a maid to Arthur.

As the other nations piled in, they all greeted the Manxwoman happily much to the disdain of Arthur. Oh how he hated her popularity amongst the nations. What did she have that he didn't? Oh yes, that's right. She has breasts and a little something else. That's how she's so popular. He honestly thought of her that way.

The meeting carried on as it normally would, someone said something stupid and then the whole meeting room burst into arguments. The Englishman sighed from his seat and watched as the chaos ensued, flickering his gaze every now and then at his sister who was unfazed by the happenings.

'Alright old chap, this will be the last time you'll ever want to associate with her, better do it now' Arthur thought, arising from his seat and walking towards Gillian who looked up at him with a smile, unknowing of his true intention to talk to her ; possibly because she was immersed in her hopeful thoughts of him not hurting her this time around.

"Hello brother, things don't look too well, do they~?" Gillian giggled softly, smiling apologetically. The Englishman's eye twitched at her giggle and smile combination but he shook his head, ridding his thoughts of strangling her right then and there.

"Manx, I have something important to tell you..." Arthur began, holding his hands behind his back. It was time that he ought to tell her how he felt. "Oh...sure, what's wrong?" Gillian asked, looking confused and slightly disheartened. The Englishman rarely used her nation name unless she was in deep trouble.

"I think it's time that you know...that I think you're a complete pain in the arse, you're bloody useless, incredibly annoying, clingy, too nice, a total pushover and I wish you'd do us all a favour by killing yourself because no one would remember you regardless of how hard you try to leave a lasting impression" Arthur said, not holding back or caring if she actually did it or not but what he did notice was the other nations staring at him in shock horror before turning soft apologetic looks to Gillian who looked on the verge of breaking.

"Woah dude, that's not cool..." Alfred spoke up, taking a step to protect his big sister figure. If there was something that he could not stand, it was the Englishman being a jerk to his little sister. "I could hardly care less because I meant every word" Arthur said with a nonchalant shrug, returning to his seat at the head of the table.

"I'm sorry I was such a bother..." Gillian said quietly and walking towards the door, slightly hiccuping as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. Words could not describe the immense pain in her chest. "Gillian..." Vladimir said, reaching his hand out to his ex-girlfriend and ongoing love interest. The female shook her head at everyone in the meeting room and quietly closed the door behind her.

-/-

It had been at least a week since the world meeting incident and no one had heard anything from the Isle of Man. Everyone was incredibly worried about her well being...well, everyone except a certain tea-drinking island nation.

It was the time of the month in which one of the other nations went to go visit her as they normally would and this time, Ludwig and his older brother Gilbert had decided to go and see her, being friends of Gillian. The German and Prussian looked up at the large mansion in which the female inhabited and were slightly in shock at how it had changed since they were last there.

The once-trim ivy vines were growing wild all over the front of the home, even covering some of the windows. The thornless roses that grew quite abundantly in her front yard were glowing purple, tainted black and had large red thorns protruding from their stems. The hedge that she had in front of her home had transformed into stinging nettles. What troubled the brothers even more was that the perfectly-fitted front door was hanging off its now rusted hinges and had claw marks through it.

Fearing for Gillian's life, Gilbert and Ludwig ran down the front path and through the broken door. The overpowering smell of blood and death met the two males as they entered the home. "Ugh, vhy vould she let her home get like zhis? It's so unawesome..." Gilbert groaned, covering his nose in disgust. He wanted to know what the hell had happened to his best friend and he wanted to know now. "Ja, zhis is very out of character for somevun so meticulous..." Ludwig agreed, nodding his head once and also covering his nose.

As they rounded the corner, they saw that the stairs leading upstairs were broken in some places and had portions of it sticking out where it could impale a foolish and clumsy person thus killing them. The two brothers carefully manoeuvred their way up the staircase and were not surprised by the state of upstairs for it was also ruined.

Walking along the hallway, calling out her name, the German and Prussian shivered as they passed portraits with blinking eyes, bloodstains and had scratch marks over some of the faces. "Gillian! Mein awesome freundin, vhere are you?" Gilbert called out, hoping that she would reply otherwise fearing the worse.

"Brüder, over here..." Ludwig said quietly, standing in the doorway of a room whose door had been ripped off its hinges. Gilbert carefully paced over and having spotted what was in the room, he fell to his knees, crimson eyes wide in shock.

Gillian was there.

Bruised and bloodstained.

Hanging from the ceiling like an ornament.

The two brothers shared a silence, moving their hands so they could be held. They couldn't believe their eyes or thoughts. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. But the sight in front them insisted it.

She was dead with no hope of ever being sane should someone try to bring her back.

The younger of the two pulled out his phone and sent a text to the other nations with a very simple message.

"She's gone..."

-/-

"We have lost not only a colleague but a friend and a sister as well. We must hold our heads high and live our lives the way that Gillian would have wanted to" Francis spoke up, breaking the silence and making the other nations nod in agreement.

There was one nation who was missing from the quiet funeral. Surprise, surprise. It was the same nation who drove her to the point of suicide. In all honesty, he wasn't wanted there. Her blood was on his hands and there was no way of removing it.

As the nations carefully placed Gillian's coffin on a emerald-embedded boat that was gently rocking on the ocean of her former home, the dark thoughts of Arthur were mutual with the nations.

The sun dipped below the horizon, taking Gillian and their wishes in the form of candles with it.

-/-

Arthur stood on the shores of Dover, his forest-green eyes focused on the rising sun. What he noticed was an unmanned boat with a large chest heading towards the pier. As the boat drew closer, he used magic to bring it closer.

His eyes widened when he saw that it was a coffin but upon seeing the inscription on the plaque upon the coffin made tears well up in his eyes.

'Within these stone walls lays Gillian Kirkland, a sister and a best friend to all. Sadly driven to suicide, she will be sorely missed'.

No.

It couldn't be true. She couldn't have done it.

Had what he said affected her so much? Yes.

He told her to kill herself and she did it.

Arthur pulled the coffin out of the boat and pried open the lid, his heart breaking when he saw the bruises, the stab wounds and the red rim around her neck where the noose had been. He pulled her corpse close to his heart and began to cry, his tears falling into the once glossy blonde hair. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Arthur murmured and repeated like a mantra, rocking back and forth and still crying.

His little Manx.

Gone.

Just like that.

He had ruined her and there was no going back.

"A sorry can't fix the wounds now, dear brother..." Gillian's ghostly voice whispered on the wind. It sounded sad. And empty. Arthur looked up and around, to see where her voice was coming from but to his disappointment, he could not find it.

"Gillian, my dear sister, please forgive me..." Arthur hiccuped, cradling her body close to him. He needed her back desperately. Her voice did not reply but instead a pair of ghostly lips pressed against his forehead, sending shivers down his spine.

He nodded and knew that he couldn't be forgiven for what he had done so he cradled the corpse of his sister and mourned her loss.

-/-

Some say that the Englishman is still on that beach, cradling a skeleton in his arms and tears falling from his puffy red eyes.


End file.
